La Rose dans la Vitrine
by Reena Catheryn
Summary: The fake diamonds and extravagant costumes cover her malnourished body. The heavy stage makeup hides layers of bruises and scars. The stunning smile conceals the sadness inside of the beauty. Eponine Thenardier is nothing more than a paycheck to her father. She is trapped, but a rose cannot survive in a glass case. Can a revolutionary leader save her AND France? AU Enjonine
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello my lovely readers! I've been on this site for some time, but have mostly stuck to the HP and Twilight worlds. However I haven't been reading any of those fics, I've been thriving silently in this fandom/community for about a year. This is my very first E/E fic (one of many I hope!) so I hope you all will welcome and support me :) it's AU, but the characters are musical based with some details from the book (though not many because I like the fluffier musical version. A few things about the story: the time period is cannon but it's not really too important to know the specifics (as with ages, not really too important though some are tossed in there), I try to keep the personalities as cannon as possible, pairings are obviously OOC, and the story focuses on Enjolras and Eponine, and no other Author's Notes will be this long! But please enjoy this story!**

_PARIS, FRANCE 1832_

Among the slums of Saint Michel stood a tall, dilapidated building. The cream paint was chipped from years of neglect, the window panes were falling and the door creaked in the wind. Despite its hazardous appearance, the visitors were of bourgeoisie and noble status only. The building's master was none other than the infamous Thenardier, criminal and leader of France's most dangerous gang: The Patrone Minette. The business inside the building was no more honorable than the brothel by the docks. For inside the house-Gorbeau House it was called-dwelled Eponine Thenardier, the eldest of the Thenardier children.

It was called a gentlemen's club though the men that visited were rarely gentlemen. For a "small" fee they could come and admire the lovely Eponine, draped in jewels and silk. It was only from close up that one could tell the jewels were fake and the silk was tattered with age. That hardly mattered when the beauty opened her mouth to sing. Her voice entranced all, and for additional fees men could spend an hour, two hours, or even the entire night in the suite on the utmost floor of the Gorbeau house. By the time the men can into the room they were too drunk to see the scars that littered Eponine's body, too drunk to hear her whimpers of pain, and too drunk to argue against the outrageous sums of money taken from them. Madame Thenardier's special brew ensured all customers left content and with only a fuzzy picture of their evening. It was a perfectly villainous scam but the Patron Minette knew it would not last forever.

Eponine, desperate for a way out, wandered during the hours of dawn to dusk. Her father didn't protest as long as she was home in time for the evening crowd. She wandered the streets, sometimes pick pocketing and stealing food, but most times just watching people pass her by as if she were a piece of trash. She got no money from her earnings at the Gorbeau House and only left its doors in her tattered chemise and skirt; a piece of rope held the two together to form a crude dress of sorts. It was upon these wandering a that Eponine found her 10 year old brother Gavroche who had been locked out of the house 4 years prior, being of little use to his parents. It was also during one of her wanderings that Eponine had literally ran into Marius Pontmercy, a bourgeois student with no money of his own who dwelled in the apartments down the street. Though he was delightfully and refreshingly hopeful in her despair life, Marius was utterly ignorant. Still, despite his blindness to her situation, he was kind to Eponine and the first and only person to offer her free ship. It wasn't long after they'd met that Eponine began to dream of a better life at his side. Marius, for his part, remained clueless.

As the rays of sunrise spilled through the window, Eponine quietly made her way to the door and slipped outside before anyone could protest. No one had paid for her company the night before, so her father had let Montparnasse share her bed. Eponine, who had not agreed, put up a fight which earned her a freshly bruised torso and a shallow cut on her shoulder from Montparnasse's knife. Both were luckily covered by her dress as she wandered the streets barefoot. It wasn't long before she spotted her rascal brother, though today he was being trailed by a brunette young man in nice clothing.

"Ponine!" he called out gleefully, hugging her tightly around her new bruises. She did her best to silence her sharp intake of breath, but Gavroche knew better.

"Ponine, what's the matter?" he frowned.

"Nothing to trouble yourself over 'Vroche," she smiled, tousling his hair. He didn't seem convinced, but was distracted by the man standing beside him.

"Right well Ponine this is Courfeyrac. Courf, this is my sister Eponine," he introduced the two with a cheeky grin.

"Pleasure to meet you mademoiselle," Courfeyrac took Eponine's hand and planted a kiss on it gently.

"It's just Eponine, Monsieur. I am no mademoiselle," she corrected with a slight edge in her voice and a wary gaze. She was far too jaded to fall for such charms in any man.

"Then I am no Monseiur," he countered with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," Eponine shrugged, glancing around nervously out of habit.

"Courfeyrac!" came a voice from down the street. Eponine smiled wildly as she caught sight of the freckled boy approaching. "Oh hello Ponine," he greeted her as he reached the group.

"Ahem."

"And a good day to you as well Gavroche," Marius laughed as he patted the young boy on the head.

"You two know each other then ?" Courfeyrac asked, gesturing between Marius and Eponine.

"Yes. Quite excellent friends we are," the boy with the slightly crooked nose replied happily. "But anyway Enjolras sent me to remind you of the meeting tonight. It is the same as always, but he says tonight's is especially important. Gavroche, will you spread the word?"

"Sure thing Pontmercy," the young urchin flashes a grin before sticking his hand out expectantly. Eponine watched with shame and amusement as Marius his head and handed the boy a coin. She refused to lose her pride along with everything else, so she never accepted charity, but her brother was young and cunning. Marius made her want to be a better person.

"Will you be joining us at the meeting?" Marius asked after Gavroche had run off, Courfeyrac hot on his tails.

"No, Monsieur Marius. I have to work tonight," she said sadly.

"Not even one night off then?" Marius looked sad but only for a quick moment.

"I'm afraid not Marius," she sighed, eyes cast downward.

Azelma ran up the street, eyes wide and panting as she searched desperately for Eponine. "Eponine!" She called when she finally found her older sister. "Papa and Maman want you home now! They're very upset Eppy," Azelma whimpered quietly.

The older Thenardier patted her sister's hair soothingly. Eppy was a nickname she only ever let Azelma call her, and she knew it was only used when her little sister was frightened. Azelma was barely 13, a full 4 years below Eponine. She never had the same beauty or strength as her sister, and so was only used by Thenardier as a maid. She would've been a punching bag too if Eponine didn't always step in.

"Okay Zelma I'm coming," she reassured her shaking sister.

"Pardon Monseiur I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow!" Eponine smiled at Marius, sad to leave him once again without his love.

"Yes lovely as always Ponine!" he called to her retreating figure.

"You shouldn't have slipped out this morning," Azelma whispered as they traveled swiftly through the back alleys.

"It's what I do every morning," Eponine argued back crossly. She often found herself annoyed with her younger sister, though she tried her hardest to be understanding. The girl was weak, not made for the street rat way of life, but it was the only life she'd known. They traveled back to the Gorbeau house in silence. As they entered it's doors Madame Thenardier was waiting. She gave a huff as she shoved a bottle in Eponine's hand.

"Did the little Mademoiselle forget to drink something today?" she sneered. "Better watch out Eponine, or you'll be out of work and out of here with a baby," she spat, disgusted. Eponine kept her tongue because her mother was not worth arguing with. While the elixir she drank once a month was disgusting and bitter and left her in great pain for the day, it did keep away pregnancy. And as much as Eponine would love to not live the life she did, she did not want to carry, deliver, or raise a child. So she clenched her eyes shut and drank the elixir without complaint.

"Where is he?" she questioned her mother after she had finished. She could already feel the dull pain which would grow more and more as the hours passed. The first day of the month was her least favorite day of the month.

"Upstairs, talking to a very rich customer. Go quick, put on your work clothes and sit yourself in front of the window. It'll put you in enough shadow to hide your dirty face," her mother shoved her into the side room. Eponine sighed as she dressed as quickly as possible, while trying to not agitate her shoulder, where the new scar from Montparnasse's knife was puckering. As soon as she was what her mother would consider decent, she stepped out, heels clicking. Eponine glared down at her feet. Shoes of all types were a mortal enemies of her, but the fancy heeled shoes that ladies of high society wore were the very bane of her existence. She settled herself in their broken down chair in front of the window, as instructed, all the while thinking of Marius to make it more bearable.

"Here she is!" Thenardier announced as he came down the staircase, leading a tall and obviously upper class man down. Eponine supposed that if he were younger the man would have been considered attractive to her. But he had to have at least 30 years more life than her, and so the thought of entertaining him disgusted her.

"Yes the beautiful Mademoiselle Eponine. I have heard a great many things about you," he reached forward, taking her hand and placing a sloppy kiss on it. As he stood up straight again, though, he winked suggestively.

'_Charming_,' Eponine thought with a sneer, but she kept her mouth shut. Her speaking voice wasn't nearly as entrancing as her singing voice.

"I look forward to returning tonight Monseuir Jondrette (one of the many aliases her father went by). If I like what I see, we will arrange payment," he nodded his head and left swiftly, leaving a feeling of dread in Eponine's gut.

**A/N: So I wrote this chapter in my notebook (I like to have a physical backup) and then typed it all on my iPhone to publish it cuz I don't have internet on my laptop right now. Long story short? It was really a challenge to give this to you so if you read the whole thing PLEASE drop me a review! I haven't had one in so long :(**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I want to thank all of you so much for the amazing support on my first chapter! It was such a nice welcome. Shoot me a review and I'll gladly reply :) Some of you picked up on it as well I forgot to mention it last chapter, but the premise of this story is indeed inspired by Moulin Rouge but the plot is original, I promise.**

**P.S. Les Mis fans=the best people in the world!**

Eponine decided to stay at the Gorbeau house instead of leaving after the "rich customer" left. She found her way up to the roof, ignoring the searing pain she felt in her abdomen. She sat near the edge, glancing down at the slums of Paris. There had been many times where she'd stood on the edge of that very roof, pondering how easy it would be just to jump. So few people would care. Her parents wouldn't blink an eye. Azelma and Gavroche would cry a few tears at first, but they would pick themselves up and keep living, just as she would if one of them died. The Thenardiers weren't a very emotional bunch by nature; they lived every man for himself, but when Marius came into Eponine's life she was given new purpose. She stayed, hoping that one day he would see her...really see her, and then he would have to love her.

To keep herself occupied, and to keep her mind of her pain, she tucked her knees to her chest and watched the people below her. Most were just blurs and dots of browns and greys, but one man in a vibrant red coat who stuck out. His clothing made him obvious to the eye, combined with the mop of blonde curls atop his head. Eponine had seen him before from that very spot she sat in, though she didn't know who he was. He walked the same route every time she saw him, from a building on the very edge of Saint Michel (not quite in the slum itself) to a cafe...the Cafe Musain she recognized. To bide her time she often came up with stories about him. Why did he wear such a godly coat? Perhaps he was very rich and in love with himself. Or he might be a con-man, selling phony elixirs and ideas. Perhaps the coat had some deep metaphorical meaning like the blood that covered the city of Paris during the Revolution not too long ago...Eponine doubted it was that one. It could quite possibly be sentimental, perhaps an heirloom or a family gift. Eponine's favorite story was that perhaps the gentleman's favorite color was red because his long lost love had worn a red dress and he had given her red roses. She shook her head; Marius had turned her into a hopeless romantic, but she knew the world was not as beautiful as Marius Pontmercy saw it. When she grew tired of her stories, she groaned and laid on her back. She wasn't left in peace for long as Azelma joined her.

"Eponine I overheard what that man and Papa were saying, before they went upstairs in private," she muttered in a hushed tone, sitting next to her older sister.

"Yeah, another night in the elephant room for me," Eponine rolled her eyes, not moving from her position.

"No, that man was asking Papa what price he would pay to buy you forever," Azelma confessed, eyes wide with shock. At this, Eponine's brow furrowed in confusion. She was a novelty act; a treasure not to be kept. Of course she was trapped in the glass case, la vitrine, her father had created, but at least she had the illusion of freedom everyday. "At first Papa refused, but the man said he'd be willing to pay any price imaginable. He said he'd been fascinated by you for a long time. He wants you to belong to him alone. He said he was an Archduke or something, but Papa took him upstairs before I could hear what price and conditions. I'm sorry Ponine," her lower lip stuck out as she hung her head in shame.

"It's alright Zelma, you did your best," Eponine said soothingly, though her thoughts were distracting. She would not be caged. She couldn't be caged. She would run if she had to, but she couldn't be owned by someone and locked away. It was already passed midday, her window of escape was shrinking rapidly. "I've got to leave," she said quietly after a few minutes of silence, staring at the horizon in deep thought.

"But where would you go Eppy? Out of Paris?"

"I couldn't leave right away. As soon as they find me gone the gang will be out patrolling. I'll have to hide out and lay low, off the streets for a few days and then I have to get out. Azelma you should come with me. It's not safe for you-

"No."

"What?"

"No," the younger girl shook her head adamantly. "If we both go, they'll find us. No, I can't leave. Papa would be so angry when he found me. You can't protect me forever Ponine," she insisted. Eponine took a long look at her baby sister. Her brown hair was caked with oil and dirt and lay limp on her head. Her skin was gray and dry, her eyes sunken and darkened. You could tell she lived a life of neglect, and yet somehow she was different. The little mouse that had once existed was gone and there was a new fire in her dull brown eyes, just as as it was there in Eponine's. Eponine knew then, staring at her sister, that she would survive.

"When did you grow up?" she asked, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"It's doesn't matter. You'd better leave now," Azelma stood, being gruff and unemotional as usual.

"Take care of yourself here, Zelma," Eponine nodded, standing as well. The sisters then parted, Azelma going back down the main stairs to finish her chores and Eponine down the ladder she had placed at the elephant suite's window for quick morning escapes. Though the goodbye was likely permanent, neither sister shed a tear/ Eponine only had love in her heart for Marius, though Gavroche was finding his way in as well. She and Azelma had never been close and hadn't changed as they grew older.

Eponine's progress was slower, the pain radiating from the elixir made her move cautiously, blending into the crowds instead of taking the back alleys as she usually would. She could only think of one place to go in her desperation. No area within the slums would be safe from the Patron Minette, so she headed to the Cafe Musain to find Marius. He had always gone to her in times of need; now she would go to him. SHe remembered the man in the red coat and wondered if he would be there as well. The sun was almost out of the sky, the crowds thin and Eponine's time running short. She quickened her pace, the ache in her abdomen protesting but she knew it would begin to fade in an hour or so. Finally she made it, just as Marius was opening the door to enter.

"Monsieur Marius!" she called, catching up with him, but he didn't respond. She followed him up the stairs to the private room anyway, where a large group of young men-students like Marius probably-stood and sat, listening to a man in a bright red coat. Eponine smiled a bit at herself as she faded into the shadows, watching Marius with curiosity and hope.

"Marius! You're late," the man in the red coat, Enjolras was his name, called out. He had never been particularly fond of Marius, who was well-off and not always focused on the revolution. His eyes also found the shadow of a woman who trailed in behind him, clearly associated with Marius.

"What's wrong today? You look as if you've seen a ghost," Joly questioned, worrying if Marius had caught a rare disease that might be contagious.

"Have some wine," Graintaire announced as he poured a glass. "And then say what's going on in that pretty little head of yours," he smirked. As Marius rambled about some girl, the others teased him but Enjolras was occupied watching the mademoiselle who clearly thought she was hidden in the shadows. Judging by the look of grief on her face it was obvious that her only intention at the meeting was to follow Pontmercy and that she was ignored. It was also very obvious the girl was a gamine. Her bones jutted out sharply, her ribs visible even through her chemise. Grime covered every surface of her body and her clothing was only tattered rags held together by an aged rope. Enjolras was completely unsure of how to proceed.

Eponine did not see his eyes on her. She did not see or hear anything after Marius admitted that he was in love, but not with Eponine. He was in love with a stranger he had bumped into on the street, a stranger Eponine could have pushed away had she not been summoned home by her father. Her heart was shattered, her dreams crushed, and her hope smashed in a single moment. The pain was almost too much for her, but she would not let Marius see her struggle. She was too strong. She was light-hearted, always teasing Eponine. He would not ever love her. She was below him. As the pain in her heart and in her abdomen pierced her, she stumbled further into the shadows, hitting the wall and sinking slowly to the ground. No one had noticed her anyway.

"Enough!" Enjolras shouted sharply. He decided it was time to set his meeting on track first. The other members of Les Amis de ABC looked up at him. "Nobody cares about your lonely soul Pontmercy," he frowned. "We have more important matters at hand: the betterment of France for one," he tightened his jaw. "It's time for all of you to decide. Are you here to fight or to play a rich boy's game?" he scoffed. "La Marque is the only people's man left in this blasted government, but he is old and frail. He will die within the year, most likely, and then the people will have no one but themselves...and us," he lectured sternly.

"Of course the Man of Marble has eyes for only Patria and a heart made of stone," Grantaire sneered.

"That's enough R," Combeferre gave him a wary glance.

"Meeting adjourned for this evening. Only return tomorrow if you are dedicated and ready to focus. We have no room for this nonsense," Enjolras sighed, giving up hope of a productive evening.

"Is everything alright Mon ami?" Combeferre approached him cautiously. For all intents and purposes, Combeferre was the second in command and Enjolras' greatest friend.

"Yes, my friend, but my patience is dwindling with the Baron Monsieur Pontmercy," he gritted his teeth. "Now he has the nerve to bring a woman, who has paid no attention to our cause!"

"Enjolras are you angry that a person of the female gender is in the same room as you?" his friend teased lightly. "Confront her then, perhaps she is more interested in the revolution than you realize."

For a moment, Enjolras was going to refuse. He was not afraid of woman, but he did not like their vanity, nor did he enjoy their presence. He had had one too many encounters with swooning girls. He was well aware that he was considered...attractive, but he was far too absorbed in planning a revolution and studying law to ever pay attention to something as trivial as love or marriage. His own happiness was of no matter, in any case, even if he went home alone to an empty flat. Of course, he was supposed to share a flat with Grantaire, but the drunkard was rarely home. After a quick evaluation of his thoughts, Enjolras nodded and began walking towards the gamine who had previously been standing, though he saw her sitting against the wall, eyes cast down.

"Pardon Mademoiselle," the leader in the red coat-who stood about four inches above Eponine-glanced at her. "Did Monsieur Pontmercy invite you here because you are interested in joining the cause?" he asked, the words coming out sharper than he'd meant them to. The girl blinked for a moment before glaring back and standing sharply, despite the pain she was currently in.

"Do you own the building, Monsieur?" she spat.

"Well no, but-

"Then you really have no business telling me where I am welcome," she retorted. "Though for what it's worth, you no nothing of your so called cause. I suppose I am your the very image of your cause, am I not? And yet you do not wish to help me. You wish to kick me out because I do not belong in a room full of naive students with dreams of a world that will never be! You are a fool Monsieur, and I am glad that I am not part of your revolution," she ranted, taking her anger and pain out on the stranger in the red coat. Enjolras was angered, but kept his calm as he was quite interested in the opinions of the spirited young woman.

"I am sorry that you feel that way, but perhaps-

"Eponine!" Marius joined them, a joyful look on his face.

"Bonjour Monsieur Marius," Eponine nodded her head, trying her best to smile for him.

"I didn't know you were coming. I thought you had work," he embraced her, not noticing her pained wince. Enjolras however, who stood to the side, did not miss it.

"I...I left that job," she admitted, eyeing Enjolras suspiciously. She did not like to have private conversations around strangers.

"Oh then I am glad you came! I need to ask a favor of you Eponine. You know so much of France, I am sure if anyone can find the home of my love it is you! She is a blond Aphrodite, and lives with an older brunette gentleman...her father I assume. I ran into her in the main square, not too far from here. I'm sure she must be here again and then you could find her for me," he grabbed Eponine's arms pleadingly.

"And what would you do for me?" Eponine gave him a coy smile, masking her despair expertly. He reached into her pocket and she frowned. "No, I don't want your money Marius," she refused.

"What then Eponine? What must I do for you to help me!" he pleaded. Eponine rolled her eyes and ignored the plea, ruffling his hair.

"I like the way you grow your hair," she smiled.

"I like the way you always tease, but please Eponine do this for me," he held her hands together and she sighed before nodding.

"Oui. I will do that for you Monsieur, but not for a few days. I...I cannot for now," she grimaced, but Marius was not watching.

"Oh thank you Eponine, you are the greatest friend! I will see you tomorrow!" he gave her a peck on the forehead before dashing down the stairs. Eponine stared off past him, forgetting Enjolras.

"He is not worth an ounce of anyone's time," the man in red interrupted her thoughts. She looked up, startled.

"You know nothing," she insisted.

"I have known him for long enough to know that. I am called Enjolras, by the way," he stuck his hand out firmly. Eponine glanced at it for a few moments before pressing her lips together.

"Eponine," she placed her hand in his. She didn't understand why at that moment, her hand fit well in his.

**A/N: I know it's a bit of an awkward ending, but if I don't stop now I won't have anything for chapter 3! So Enjolras has made his appearance and it doesn't look like they're getting along just yet… In case you haven't noticed the timeline has been altered because I need more time.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I almost forgot about writing because of all the excitement in my life. Forgive me for ranting on for a moment, but I really must share: So I got my housing assignment and my final schedule for my first quarter of college and I'm super psyched. And then I went out on my first "real" date with my boyfriend of over a year because he finally got his license so he picked me up and took me out to a cool sushi place...it was awesome! And then I discovered that files I thought I'd lost on my old computer had transferred over to my new computer and were just hiding from me so I got all my old stories back, but this is still the story I'm most excited to write. Okay now back to business.**

**For those that are interested, I picture Enjolras as Aaron Tveit, but I hear Ramin Karimloo's voice. I adore Aaron, but his voice hust is NOT the right tone for Enjolras. As far as Eponine goes, it is most definitely Samantha Barks ALL THE WAY. Fareth Gates is a fantastic Marius (Nick Jonas was awful and I don't like Eddie Redmayne's vibrating face) and Katie Hall is by far my favorite Cosette (good Lord if you actually think Amanda Seyfried is a good singer please leave me life right now). And movie Gavroche is adorable, but the boy who played him in the 25th anniversary concert is also phenomenol so I'm not sure who I like more. Anyway, enjoy chapter three!**

"Ay! Ponine!" a young voice called.

"Bonjour Gavroche," his older sister flashed him a smile. "Sorry for interrupting your big boy time," she teased. "I had to talk to Marius."

"Don't you always?" Gavroche rolled his eyes, turning to Enjolras. "Great speech tonight Monsieur!" he exclaimed.

"Thank you Gavroche," the leader replied. Enjolras wasn't fully convinced that having a ten year old join the revolution was beneficial, but the street rat had Courfeyrac wrapped around his finger and Gavroche was more dedicated to a better France than most members of Les Amis.

"Come on 'Vroche," Courf lifted him onto his back. "I've got left over dinner at my house and if I eat it all myself, I'll be too fat to fight in le revolution," he complained, winking at Enjolras as he left. Enjolras nodded in mute understanding. Gavroche did not take handouts, but he would gladly help a friend.

"I take it you have met Gavroche," Enjolras commented.

"It would be difficult not to, seeing as he is my brother," she replied sharply.

"I apologize, Mademoiselle, for offending you. You are welcome at any meeting, the same as any person of any gender or class is welcome at all meetings...so long as you are dedicated to the cause," he did his best to appease the girl who stood before him, but his speciality was in inspiring, not in appeasing.

"You clearly do not understand. I am the cause, oui? The people like me...the gamines...the poor of France...we will not rise for you," she sighed in frustration. "I will admit your cause is noble, Monsieur, but the pople of the streets will not be told what is best for them. They have been pushed down for so many years, they will not simply rise because a group of students tell them it is time. Oui Monsieur, they are tired of the life they live, but they are stubborn and proud. They fight for bread and shelter. Their life is war everyday. They don't care about freedom or equality. They want to see their children fed and be given a roof to sleep underneath. You may have inspired them, and reminded them that they have had enough, but they will not rise for you. They cannot risk it. Their life is war enough already, Monsieur. If you were as smart as your friends say, you would see that," she said pointedly.

Enjolras was simply about to refute her point by reciting all the comments he had heard from the poor and all the errors from the first Revolution he intended to fix. But suddenly he realized that he was having an intelligent conversation with a woman. This woman who was blinded by affection and distracted by heartbreak, was also capable of having an intellectual conversation about revolution. She was more ready to argue with him than any of his friends, who were so ready to follow him. While Enjolras was confident in his ability to lead and passionate in his will, he did not think he was perfect in the slightest.

"You make a fair point," he agreed. "I'm interested in hearing your perspective on a few other matters. Will you be at the meeting tomorrow?" Eponine paused before carefully replying. She was closed from everyone, evening her dearest Marius and brother Gavroche. It was a protective instinct.

"No I do not think so Monsieur. I've got some things to do before I leave Paris in a week or so," she affirmed.

"Leave Paris? Mademoiselle Eponine Paris needs people like you to fight Patria now more than ever," Enjolras frowned, mind directed toward the revolution and very little else. Eponine rolled her eyes in response.

"Patria has not been kind to me and I owe her nothing. Best of luck with your war, Monsieur," Eponine said as she started down the stairs. In a rare moment of panic, Enjolras said words he never would have in any other instance.

"You know, Mademoiselle, that Marius will fight by my side when I call. I would never force him, nor any of my friends, but all the Les Amis have promised themselves to our cause. If you love him, then do you not want to help improve his chances of surviving this fight?" the words fell sloppily out of his mouth. Love was not a term he used often and he never once had guilted someone into his revolution. He had never needed to, but he knew Eponine would be a great asset and his usual speech meant nothing to her. She was a different kind of passionate. She was passionate in the soul, but about matters of survival and matters of the heart. Enjolras was passionate in the soul, but about matters of the mind and the intangible. She had frozen for a moment at his words, but spun around quickly, her nostrils flared.

"You have no right to take his safety and dangle it in front of my face like a little mouse!" she spat on his shoes in disgust. "Marius is not helpless, nor am I!" she exclaimed, though her initial reaction faded at the thought of Marius being shot and falling to the ground behind a barricade destined to fail. "But for his sake-and the sake of all your schoolboys-I will help you. But just you remember, Monsieur," she sneered, "that I do not act for you or your cause. For someone who claims to care about the people you have a heart made of ice. I do not love easily, but I love. Perhaps your drunk friend is right," she paused, an evil smile on her face, "you are in fact made of marble," she finished with finality before storming down the stairs and out the doors of the Cafe Musain. As she left, Enjolras' face twisted in a way it rarely ever had. The corners of his mouth turned up as a small smile appeared on his face. And deep inside his heart of stone, Enjolras felt a small flame begin to warm the marble which had encased his intellectual heart for so long. When Enjolras returned home to his empty house, Grantaire was no where inside, he was only slightly more aware of the emptiness and lonliness he felt inside.

Eponine, however, knew that she had put herself in a horrible position. She had tied herself to Paris for an indefinite amount of time and had not secured a place off the streets to hide from the men who were undoubtedly searching for her. And in the midst of it all, she agreed to help the man she loved find someone else. She had nowhere to go, she she found herself wandering quietly as far from the Gorbeau house as she could go. As she walked she sang a soft song of a broken heart and a life of lonliness. With no other option, she found herself under the bridge where the Seine met the hard stone. She curled herself into a ball, leaning against the wall for support. The pain that the elixir had produced had since faded, but the pain in her heart grew more and more unbearable. She did her best to stop the tears which flowed from her eyes. Her father had taught her one thing in life: Thenardiers don't cry and they don't show their pain. For someone like her, life was pain and Eponine was a fool for believing in anything else. Love, equality, and freedom were impossible ideals saved for those born into money and privelege. They could buy the illusions, but those like Eponine and her family were born to the real world and struggled to survive one day at a time. When she could not stop the tears, she clamped herself shut and forced herself to sleep. She loved Marius Pontmercy, but her love would never be returned. She was destined to a life on her own.

* * *

When Eponine awoke the next morning, she was relieved to find herself still on the edge of the Seine instead of back in her room at Gorbeau. She smiled to herself, realizing that she'd never been away from her father and his abuse for so long. With that thought, her brow furrowed and she sighed deeply. She would have to be absolutely careful if she wanted it to stay that way. She didn't know who would still be out looking for her, but she knew they would not give up easily. She also knew that she had to keep her promise to Marius. The ache in her heart was not as severe as it had been and she knew that she would do it for him, no matter how much it hurt her because she loved him. She found her way back up to the pavement and slipped into the crowds that were already developing, heading to the area where Marius had said his mystery girl would no doubt return. The growling of her stomach made her huff in annoyance.

"Wouldn't it be simple if we just didn't need to eat?" she muttered to herself. Food was rare in her life, but it was something neither she nor her family could live without. And so she found herself, glancing through the crowd with the eyes of an experienced thief. She wasn't proud, but she was skilled. As the dirty brunette darted in and out of the small groups of people, a kind man walked arm in arm with his daughter, handing out small bits of money, food, and clothing to the beggars of the streets. He had known a hard life and had worked his way from nothing with only some silver from a good Bishop and the grace of God, so he had a kindness in his heart for those less fortunate. He taught his adopted daughter to share the same, but today her mind was elsewhere.

"Cosette, pull that extra shawl out of your bag," Valjean told his daughter softly, but she was not even listening. "Cosette!" he prodded a bit more sharply.

"Oh yes! Sorry Papa," she smiled, pulling it out and snapping out of her daze.

"Is something the matter, dearest?" his brown eyes stared down at her, full of worry. She'd been acting strange since the previous day.

"Oh no Papa," she shook her head. "I just thought I saw someone I recognized, but I didn't," she tried to explain, but her father was not convinced. She was not allowed out of the house without him and therefore had very few friends.

"Dear Cosette, you're such a lonely child. How quiet and pensive it must be for you, with only me to keep you company," he pondered. "Perhaps I should allow you to have a little bit of time on your own. Your almost eighteen, I think you could handle it."

"Really? Oh Papa that would be so wonderful!" she exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug. With her father out of the way for a while, she could search for the boy she had stumbled into yesterday. She had not caught his name, but her soul had been on fire. She was in love, and she just had to find out if he felt the same way. The two continued on there amble through the streets, finding more unfortunate people to share their goodwill with. As they came down the street on one end, Eponine selected her victim traveling from the opposite end. He was an upper class man, but unlike the pair of good Christians, he was shoving through people as if he were the most important person in all of Europe. He even dared to shout and spit at some people as he shoved them away. Eponine glared at him, knowing all too well what type of person he was. She also knew that he was too wrapped up in himself to notice a few coins go missing from the pocket of his huge coat. Just as her hand grazed the wool pocket, the man turned to snarl at a young girl standing near. Eponine's hand got caught in his jacket and she was thrown to the ground as he turned.

"Clear out of my way rat!" he shouted. He took a step away, stepping on one of the sous that had fallen out of Eponine's hand in the commotion. His eyes widened. "You dirty little thief! Scum of the streets trying to take MY earned money!" he ranted, reaching down to pick her up roughly. He drew back his fist, but Valjean appeared out of nowhere and pulled him back quickly.

"Good Monsieur, thank you for finding my charge! I thought I'd lost her. She's been sick in the mind ever since the poor incident. Her father, a captain, killed in battle," he clucked his tongue and quickly pushed Eponine behind him, where she came face to face with the Lark.

"Well," the man glared at Valjean and glanced at Cosette, reognizing their higher class and grumbling, "just be sure to keep her under control," he spat before leaving quickly. Eponine did her best to hide through her hair, not wanting Cosette to recognize her.

"Mademoiselle are you alright?" Valjean asked her sincerely.

"Oui, Monsieur, thank you but I must go," she said sharply with a nod before turning to leave. Cosette reached out and grabbed her arm and for a moment Eponine panicked.

"Wait! At least take this," she pressed a 5 sous piece into her hand with a smile. Eponine breathed in relief, nodded and dashed away. As soon as she got a good distance she paused to watch the two retreating.

"Cosette, now I remember. Cosette..." she breathed lightly, in shock. "How can it be? We were children together!" she exclaimed, looking up to the heavens as if God would immediately answer. "Look what's become of me," her eyes looked down at the ground in shame. She had almost been caught for only the second time in her life and the Lark who she had teased so relentlessly had saved her hide. Not only that, but she had shown extra kindness as well. It dawned on her then, that the blonde mademoiselle and the older gentleman that Marius had described must have been Cosette and her new Papa, her savior. Eponine looked grimly at them before laughing a dark unnatural laugh. How life had a cruel sense of irony. She took the money and threw it in the cup of a different beggar. She wouldn't take money from such a cruel trick.

**A/N: At first this was incredibly short and I was disappointed, but I just forced myself to write a little bit more and then all of the sudden Cosette and Valjean were showing up! Ah well! I just want to give a huge shout out to my hugest supporter right now ShipperBody: YOU ARE AMAZING :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello again :) I'd like to apologize for the longer writing time...things got a bit hectic in my life with my mom's car breaking down and having to shop for a new one, plus I didn't have any brilliant inspirations (I don't generally plan my stories out because when I do...as is the case with "Silence" *see my profile...I often find myself wanting to skip to the ending!). But here I am, forcing myself to at least write a paragraph a day until I get a brilliant streak of motivation. Also I didn't get quite as many reviews, though lots of followers that I appreciate in the fullest! I move in to my new dorm in only 19 days and I have an audition for "Spring Awakening" coming up too! So yay for musical theatre (the first of 5 shows I'm auditioning for this year, having not been in a show since July). So without further ado, please enjoy Chapter 4!**

As Eponine traveled in the direction of the retreating Cosette and her father, the cold wind reminded her that it wasn't yet summer, despite the date on the calendar. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the ground, forgetting the need to eat and forgetting anything other than her lost love. Her injuries from Montparnasse no longer bothered her, since she had built such a high tolerance for pain and the hunger she felt was minimal. But despite the ache in her heart, she knew that she had to follow the Lark to discover where she lived. She was cautious, knowing that her father and his goons could be out looking for her anywhere. So she blended and stayed amongst the shadows as she finally caught sight of the pair again, following them discreetly all the way to Number Five, Rue Plumet. As the two walked into the small, quaint house, Eponine pressed her forehead against the iron gate. Inside of it was a garden...the Lark's garden. It was filled with beautiful flowers and climbing vines and butterflies fluttering everything. It was exactly the kind of garden Cosette was born to care for and live in. Everything in it was graceful and delicate, everything Eponine was not. Even as a spoiled child, she had never been graceful nor delicate.

With a sigh, Eponine turned to leave quickly before she was spotted by anyone. She could tell it was at least noon, though she didn't know how Cosette and her new Papa could have spent four hours walking amongst the slums to help the gamines like herself. Eponine knew where she would find Marius after he got out of class, so she headed in the general direction of the Cafe Musain. While she walked, certain thoughts flew through her head. What if I pretend I couldn't find her, or her house? Would he see me then? What if I just told him she moved away? Would he forget about her and turn, instead, to me? Eponine knew these thoughts were useless, though. Marius had fallen head over heels for Cosette. Denying him Cosette would only bring him heartbreak; he would feel what Eponine felt everyday, but Eponine did not wish that on him. She loved him with every fiber of her essence. She would do anything in the world for him simply because he asked, and because she knew it would bring happiness to him. As she entered the Cafe there was only a few of the guys from the previous day there. She recognized the drunkard, the man who had been spouting love poetry the previous night, and Courfeyrac who had introduced himself to her the day before.

"Ah Mademoiselle Eponine! Always a pleasure," Courfeyrac called to her as he saw her come up the stairs. Eponine chuckled.

"Monsieur Courfeyrac I have told you before I am no Mademoiselle," she shook her head with a smile. It was easy to forget her troubles around the spirited Les Amis.

"Courf, who is your lovely friend? She is a lady, if not a mademoiselle," the man clasping the bottle with the wild black curls stood and sauntered over to Eponine, taking her hand and placing a kiss on it. "I am Grantaire, the resident court jester and drunkard extraordinaire." Eponine fought the urge to spit as she smelled the strong scent of brandy on his breath. She knew that he was nothing like her father, but the scent of alcohol had become one she detested with a vengeance.

"And I am Eponine," she took her hand back sharply, but tolerated the man with the easy smile and the clouded eyes.

"This fool is Jean Prouvaire," Courfeyrac gestured to the third man in the room, a man with sparkling eyes and neat, sleek hair.

"But please call me Jehan. You, Eponine, are like a rose. A beauty hidden behind it's thorns," he professed before nodding and writing something frantically in a small journal he had in his hands. She could not stop the chuckle that escaped her lips.

"Oh I am hardly beautiful Monsieur Jehan, but I appreciate the words of honey," she sat down at the table beside where Courfeyrac had philosophy books layed out.

"Nonsense ma belle! You, unlike many of the lovely ladies in this town, have long flowing hair and all of your teeth!" Courfeyrac laughed and Eponiner rolled her eyes in an easy response. She sat beside the boys, chatting, and meeting the rest as they piled in. There was Feuilly, the only member that was expressly not a student who made fans for a living; Joly, a medical student with a thousand worries over germs and viruses; Combeferre, another medical student who was much more relaxed than the former and seemed to be second in command to Enjolras; Bahorel, who never explained whether he was a student or not and mostly made a point of displaying his rather prominent muscles; and there was Bosseut who was a student of philosophy like Courfeyrac, though he was convinced that Lady Luck must find him repulsive. Of course once the room was full of loud boys, all excited over their new female friend who had been invited by their leader, Eponine snuck to the shadows to wait for Marius. It was later in the evening, though, that she was sought out by someone else.

"Hello Eponine," the man greeted her simply as he found her waiting against the wall, much like she had been the previous tonight. "I'm glad to see you came."

"I said I would," she replied sharply, not looking at him fully. "Ask what you need to ask Monsieur Enjolras, because I've got things to do," she added.

"They cannot wait an hour?" Enjolras frowned, frustratingly reminding himself why he did not generally deal with women.

"Not if an hour is going to turn into a three hour meeting, no," Eponine refused once more as she thought of how incredibly unpleasant it would be to spend another night on the ground outside in the chilled spring air. If she wanted to find a better place to stay she needed to find it before dusk.

"You have my word, then," he nodded and left her alone.

"PONTMERCY! The tortured soul himself has returned," Grantaire called out and Eponine's head snapped toward the stairs, where sure enough Marius Pontmercy was trudging into the room. His eyes lit up, though, when he saw Eponine. As he rushed toward her, she pretended for a moment that he was excited to see her just to see her, and not because he wanted to ask her of Cosette. The fantasy ended quickly, though.

"Ponine! Did you find her?" he asked, grabbing her arms and staring into her eyes with eagerness. She blinked slowly before giving him a small smile.

"Oui Monsieur Marius, I did," she nodded.

"Oh Eponine I shall never doubt you again!" he clasped his hands to his heart dramatically and spun around.

"You see, I told you. There's lots of things I know," Eponine proclaimed proudly, reminding herself a little of Gavroche.

"Yes Ponine, but will you take me to her?" he begged. For a moment, Eponine was about to nod her head in defeat, but she paused. Rue Plumet was closer to the Gorbeau house than she should have gone before and it would be stupid of her to go there again, especially in the same day. After a few moments of careful thought, the words that came out of her mouth surprised not only herself, but Marius as well.

"No."

"But Eponine-

"It is Number 5, Rue Plumet. Surely you know where that is, or one of your friends does. I cannot go there tonight Monsieur Marius. I have to do something...I promised your friend Monsieur Enjolras," she fought the blush that rose to her cheeks.

"You promised to do something for Enjolras?" Marius frowned, glancing at the revolutionary leader who was deep in conversation with Combeferre.

"Oui, for the good of the revolution Marius," she nodded, confirming his thoughts.

"I didn't know you were interested in the revolution," he laughed, as though it were a ridiculous thought. It angered Eponine that he should think so little of her.

"And why shouldn't I be?" she stuck her hands on her hips defiantly.

"No, no Eponine. I didn't mean that you shouldn't be! I just didn't know. Please, don't be angry Ponine," Marius looked frightened for a moment.

"Alright," she gave in with a sigh just as Enjolras called the meeting to order. He kept his promise to Eponine, keeping his speech short. There was not much they could do without the right moment so for now his speeches were meant to inspire people to spread the revolutionary seed and plant it in others. His friends cheered and applauded when he finished, chanting 'Vive le Revolution! Vive le France!'. He found his way over to Eponine, who was sitting on a stool less in the shadows with her lips pursed. She had done her best to be open minded to Enjolras' speech, but she was not impressed as his friends were.

"So what were your thoughts on tonight's proposals?" he asked, standing next to her with her arms folded.

"I stand my ground, Monsieur Enjolras. The words you speak mean nothing to my people. Egalite? Fraternite? Liberte? Are these not words used in the last failed revolution? The people of the streets are not looking to turn the world upside down. They only want to survive without such a struggle. They want to fall asleep at night knowing they will wake up to a better day. At the end of the day, they're another day older. That's all. They want a world where their hard work will earn them what the noblemen are handed on silver platters already," she lectured somewhat condescendingly. Enjolras clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils.

"Then what would you suggest?" he muttered.

"If you are going to take my advice, then I suggest you spend a day on the streets of Paris. Go to the slums, but whatever you do, do not dress like a bourgouise. You'll just end up with no money and dirty looks. Dress simple and talk among the people. Ask them what they're frustrations are and what they would fight for. I cannot speak for everyone, but I know that their are not many good souls left among the poor," she paused for a moment, shame overtaking her words. "Poverty drives people to desperation Monsieur. Even the Holy Lord himself is unknown and un-worshipped throughout much of the slums. I do know, though, that there are good people about. You just have to find them. You care so much about Patria, Monsieur Enjolras, but Patria would not be without the individuals that make her. Perhaps it is time to care a bit more about them," Eponine finished her rant strongly before her cheeks began to burn red. Here she stood, lecturing a well educated upper class man on how to approach his own thoughts! "I am sorry Monsieur, that's not my place," she cast her eyes down. No matter how strong she was, Eponine Thenardier had spent her entire life being reminded that she was below everyone and everything. She was below even the garbage that strewn the street. When she could not keep her tongue, which was often, she was physically reminded by her Pere that she was the lowest of the low. The previous night when she had lashed out at Enjolras, her emotions had gotten the better of he. But she had had the night to bathe in self pity and she was very much finished with it.

"Nonsense Eponine. I asked for your opinion, though I may not have been prepared for what you have to say. And if you insist that you are not a Mademoiselle, then I am no Monsieur. We are equal in the eyes of the Republic, in the eyes of the Revolution, and in the eyes of God. I insist you call me Enjolras," Enjolras straightened, feeling uncomfortable at her sudden breach in strength.

"Alright...Enjolras," Eponine frowned slightly as the name felt foreign on her tongue without giving it the proper Monsieur. The crowd in the room was beginning to disperse, and the few left were eyeing the pair strangely. They had never seen their fearless, marble leader interact so easily with a woman before. Enjolras had encountered his fair share of women, through his match-making mother and on their own accord, but he generally gave them a hard stare and a stuttered refusal before quickly leaving. Now he stood, engaging in an actual conversation that for a moment seemed so spirited. Enjolras was not without emotions; it was simply the case that all his emotions were devoted to the betterment of France. His friends, who had bestowed the loving nicknames of Marble Man and Man of Stone upon him, did not believe that love for one's country counted.

"But I am not against the idea of visiting the slums to speak to the people who have not been to any of my protests," the leader rubbed his stubbled chin in thought. It had been a few days since he'd taken the time to shave. "I'm not familiar with which areas would be best to visit. I spend too much of time at Sorbonne. Perhaps you could direct me to the best place to observe?" he glanced down at her and noticed that she was glancing out the window, a look of worry spread across her features. "Eponine?" he snapped, harsher then he'd met.

"What?"

"I asked if you could direct me to the right area to visit."

"Oh, well the slums of Saint Michel are a good place to start," she answered gruffly, beginning to bounce slightly with anxiety. She could see the sun beginning to set and she knew it would be ten times more difficult to mask herself in the darkness. The Patron Minette were more likely than not still looking for her, and they were masters of the night.

"Do you have somewhere to be that is more important than the Revolution?" Enjolras finally snapped, glaring pointedly at her. Combeferre began to wander over, seeing the conversation was not going smoothly any longer.

"Oui, if you must know!" Eponine snapped back, planting her foot. "It is almost dusk and I cannot be out much past it." Enjolras paused, thinking for a moment that she was obviously scared to travel in the dark on her own. It was logical, as she was a small woman.

"I will walk you home when we are finished," he announced, as if it would solve all her troubles. She scoffed.

"We are all equal in the eyes of the Revolution, Enjolras. I do not need to be walked home by you or any other kind Monsieur here," Eponine added the last bit as an afterthought as Combeferre finally reached the pair.

"Please Mademoiselle, let us do the honors. It would please us very much," the calmer student tried to appease her temper with a gentle smile.

"I am sorry, but I cannot let you. We are finished now Monsieur," she said the last word with emphasis, shooting a glare at Enjolras. For a moment he was about to roll his eyes and let her leave, but a series of memories flashed through his head. Eponine: wincing as Marius hugged her...Eponine: stuttering over her sudden lack of a job...Eponine: waiting in the cafe all day with no other place to be. The first thing that shocked him was that he had noticed so much about Eponine in only a few days. The second realization was that Eponine had no where to go, but rather was in a hurry to find somewhere to go.

"Eponine wait!" he called as she was already halfway down the stairs. He gave a quick nod to Combeferre, bidding him adeui. It was outside and down the block when he finally caught up to her. She spun around angrily.

"What?!" she demanded. The cold wind that came with darkness whipped her hair across her face and she brushed it away with annoyance.

"You are not wearing a coat."

"I am well aware of that," she glared at him, exasperation dripping from every syllable. Enjolras glared at the ground and then clenched his eyes for a moment before he spoke the next words.

"If you have no place to go, you are welcome to use the spare room in my apartment," he did his best to sound pleasant. "I share it with Grantaire, but he is rarely home and I could use help cooking and cleaning up," he added quickly, remembering how she had refused money from Marius with disgust.

"I do not cook," she said simply.

"Then tidying up," he insisted, but was cut off from a rather loud cough from the girl standing across from him. He felt his heart clench only slightly, a feeling he had become unfamiliar with since hardening himself to the world around him. Eponine was going to refuse, but she thought she saw a shadow dart quickly across the road a further ways down the block. In a panic she took a deep breath and nodded quickly.

"Fine, I will go with you. But it is only until you no longer need my help with the revolution."

"Agreed," Enjolras almost heaved a sigh of relief. It was temporary. He couldn't even explain why he had been compelled to offer her his spare room in the first place, but he was very glad it would not be forever. An equal part of him, strangely, was very glad she had accepted his offer. Perhaps he could learn to care for more than Patria.

**A/N: So there it is! I hope you enjoy it. And oh goodness I forgot to mention this before...please I know I'm making HORRIBLE spelling and grammar mistakes (especially with anything French. I spell it different every single time...good lord). But I'm typing on WordPad (not Microsoft Word because I don't have that on my new laptop yet) which has absolutely no Spell Check or Grammar Check. And I never realized how much I needed those before. But anyway, please review! And another special thanks to ShipperBody, who basically motivated me to finish what I wasn't able to do in a week, in one day!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yay! An update! Sorry I lost my weekly mojo. The days are dwindling for me starting college. I move in in 7 days! ONE WEEK PEOPLE. Sorry, I've been excited for this my entire life. Plus I finally updated "Silence" after having not even thought about it all summer. So anyway, thank you once more to my amazing followers, but especially to my reviewers and my every faithful muse ShipperBody! Without further ado, enjoy Chapter Five!**

The first night of the unexpected partnership was filled with tension, stubborn personalities, arguing, and awkwardness galore. The endless arguing ended in an unhappy truce. Eponine would take the spare bedroom, but she insisted on not dirtying the bed. Despite Enjolras' eloquent rebuttal, she slept curled in a ball on what she insisted was the most comfortable floor she'd ever laid eyes on. The environment in the apartment did improve, though slowly at first, in the following two weeks. Eponine became more accepting of her new friend's assistance after asserting herself as a makeshift housekeeper. She had bathed herself and even been given a hand-me-down dress by the landlord's daughter so she no longer felt it necessary to sleep on the floor. She cleaned up after Enjolras and Grantaire, when he ever actually showed up (which Eponine dreaded). She even taught herself to cook on the third day of her stay, which helped ease the tension in the small apartment.

Enjolras was at first annoyed when she pushed him into a chair at the table. He had work to do, speeches to write, finals to study for, and a revolution to plan. His anger faltered when she proudly placed a plate of what could only be described as slop in front of him. The way she grinned and crossed her hands over chest made him automatically picture Gavroche. She looked quite pleased with herself.

"See? I told you Eponine knows lots of things," she grinned, half smug and half proud. Enjolras rose an eyebrow in silence before taking a cautious bite.

"Did you put sugar AND salt in it?" he demanded after almost spitting it out all over the front of himself. Her eyebrows knit together as her lips pursed.

"Oh well I didn't know what the difference between the bags of white stuff was so I just put a bit of both in," she shrugged as Enjolras stood, shaking his head. He had to hide a smile then because she had burst out laughing at herself.

"Guess I don't know as much as I thought I did. Sorry Monsieur Marbre," she teased. Enjolras groaned.

"Please refrain from the use of that name," he told her sternly.

"Oy but your friends call you the Marble Man, you know Monsieur," she grinned maliciously. No matter her intentions, Eponine was a Thenardier and the mean streak ran inside her veins as much as it did in both of her siblings and her parents. When she could see that she would not win on that one, she tried again. "What else is it your precious Amis call you then? Fearless leader? Bit bold for me. Mon Capitan? Bit patronizing for my taste. Apollo? Isn't that the name that Grantaire calls you so often? Mm, could work but too ancient to really fit. I suppose I'll have to think on it for now, but I most like Monsieur Marbre," she pretended to be mostly speaking to herself, but she as gauging Enjolras' reaction carefully. He was very guarded, but she could see his veins pulsing with aggravation. She decided to leave it alone for the time being.

"Eponine I believe I requested that you no longer call me Monsieur if you will not allow me to call you Mademoiselle. In any case it is far too formal for our current situation," he replied stiffly, unsure of just how much longer he could keep control over himself. He had made a promise to the Holy Lord that he would help Eponine, even if she didn't want the help, but she was making it increasingly difficult.

"Old habits die hard Mons- I mean Enjolras," she shrugged, still not liking the feel of it on her tongue. "And you must know I'm only teasing. I've got more brains in my head then to annoy the great Leader of the revolution, who knows how to talk to the people into a thundering riot!" she scoffed. Enjolras clenched his teeth, but was secretly very glad that she was not too intimidated or withdrawn to go as far as to tease him.

Suffice to say after that evening she did not make an attempt to cook again. Eponine spent most of her time inside. Though it pained her, she had many reasons. She was still hiding from the Patron Minette, and she was avoiding Marius. The thought of listening to him ramble on about the Lark still brought her so much pain, though she found it odd that the thought of seeing Marius' smiling face no longer brought her the same joy it once had. She tried not to think about it. A world without Marius was a world without hope and without light. The trees became bare and the streets once again filled with meaningless strangers.

Enjolras noticed her unwillingness to join him at the Cafe, and though he found it odd he did not argue against her. It had taken so much effort to get her to simply use the bed. He didn't want to push her back out, risking her living on the streets again. If he was going to help the people of France, it was logical for him to be able to help one of the most destitute. Something in him had changed drastically since Eponine had begun living with him. He rarely let it show on the outside, but little things were beginning to slip through. A small smile here, or a chuckle coupled with a headnod there. Eponine did not pick up on the signs as she spent so much of her time brooding. Finally, reluctantly enough, Enjolras confronted her.

"Uh Eponine," he coughed as he stood in the doorway of her room, where she was staring at his shelves of books. She looked up at him in surprise, having thought he was holed up in his room studying. "It's come to my attention that you haven't left this apartment. I don't really think that's beneficial to you since you seem discontent. Would you come to the meeting tonight?" he stood awkwardly in the door, standing stock straight as usual. Eponine gave him a wary glance.

"I don't think I could sit through it Enjolras, but if you feel as though I am crowding your home you only needed to say so," she stood up harshly, walking toward him as if to exit. Enjolras groaned. He had known she would react that way.

"No Eponine that's not what I meant and you know it! You've been looking for a chance to get out of this deal since we made it. You were going to help me with this revolution, remember?" he put an arm out to stop her. She stopped before she could make contact with his arm. She stomped her foot slightly, glaring up at him.

"Yeah I do. But I also remember telling you to go to the slums. And you haven't done that. It's been two weeks. What are you doing? Still telling those naive students to gather weapons? If that's what you've been doing I have no respect for you," she crossed her arms across her chest stubbornly.

"Of course I haven't been telling them to gather weapons! But I haven't found the time to go into the slums just yet. I've had a lot of school work and we're planning a rally at the meetings if you must know. You would have known that already if you would attend meetings like the rest of the group," he glared pointedly. With a huff, Eponine rolled her eyes.

"Fine. I will come and help you plan your rally, but you have to keep your promise too! It would be a mistake to rush into a fight without considering other options."

"Fine," he nodded in consent. Later that evening, they ventured out together. Enjolras noticed she was skiddish as they traveled quickly and offered his arm. Cautiously, she took it. They approached the Cafe Musain without an issue and made it inside and upstairs to the already crowded private room.

"EPONINE!" Marius shouted, pushing through the students to get to his friend. She put on her brightest smile to hide the internal grimace. Enjolras muttered something about needing to talk to Combeferre before disappearing. A small part of Eponine was saddened, though she shook it quickly as Marius embraced her in a strong hug. She smiled a genuine smile, remembering how loved his hugs made her feel. "Where have you been for two weeks?" he demanded. She shrugged, scuffing her foot on the ground.

"Hanging around with Enjolras, Monsieur Marius. I'm staying in his spare room and helping him keep his apartment clean and stuff," she explained, staring at the ground in shame. Marius cocked his head in confusion.

"You're living with Enjolras?" he choked out. Her head snapped up to glower at him.

"It was my only option on account of me losing my job," she reminded him. He wasn't paying much attention, though, as he pulled a letter out of his jacket.

"Ponine I need you to do something for me. I managed to find Cosette's house and I spoke with her, but her father keeps her inside most of the time now so I have not seen her again. I wrote her this letter declaring my love. Will you read it and then give it to her if it's good enough?" he pressed the letter into her open palm while she blinked in frustration, staring at it.

"I cannot Monsieur Marius," she finally murmured quietly.

"Why not?" he asked, pouting.

"Because I can't read," she sighed, but he hadn't heard her.

"What was that?"

"I SAID I CAN'T READ," she repeated loudly, but apparently it was much louder than she anticipated because all eyes turned to stare at her. She didn't wait but three seconds before turning and fleeing in humiliation. She had just shouted at an entire room full of University educated men that she could not even read at a basic level. As she ran down the block at full speed, she heard Enjolras shout her name. She continued to run, though, completely unaware. But the shouting of her name had caused a different pair nearby to perk up. Luckily, Eponine spotted them before they spotted her and she came skidding to a halt, ducking into the nearest alley and pressing herself firmly against the wall. Enjolras soon ran by, opening his mouth to shout again, but Eponine's arm whipped out and pulled him in, her hand quickly covering his mouth. He glowered down and was about to speak anyway, when a gruff voice was heard nearby.

"I heard her name. Where is that little hussy?" the voice asked.

"She should have had the good sense to leave Paris," a second, younger but slythering tone answered.

"The girls got no sense in her brain at all. If she thinks we ain't gonna find her, she's got another thing comin! We'll get what we're due and what we were promised," the first voice replied hotly.

"You ain't gonna find nothing, Babet. I'll be the one to find her. She's always had a soft spot for me," the younger voice boasted. At that, Eponine flared her nostrils and rolled her eyes. Soft spot her ass.

"Well you let her slip away this time," the original voice taunted. There was the sound of a blade being brandished and then the whimpering of the older man.

"See to it that you keep your mouth shut old man," the hiss was barely audible, but Eponine knew it well. Footsteps in the next moment let her know that both were gone. She dropped her hands from Enjolras, who had been listening in confusion and anxiety the entire time.

"Who were they, Eponine?" he demanded. It was clear that she had recognized them. Otherwise why would she be hiding?

"I guess you could call em my previous employers," she chuckled darkly. "I told you not all the people of the street were good people, Monsieur." Enjolras shook his head in disbelief.

"Let's go home," he suggested, forgetting about a meeting for the first time in his life. He had too much to think about. Eponine nodded silently, not even hesitating to take his arm. They both accepted, at the moment, the solemnity of their situation and began to trust each other, but only slightly. Needless to say, Enjolras did not force Eponine out of the house again.

**A/N: Okay so I had a COMPLETELY different ending for this chapter, but I decided I needed to stretch out the E/E interaction a bit more before I gave away my big surprises :) So I guess you'll have to wait another chapter! MWAHAHA! On a side note I need to ask you guys a question...what names do you like best for Enjolras? Man of Marble gets old, Appollo has already been used by an author I very much admire and I don't want to rip said author off, Enjy is obnoxious, but I like nicknames. So any thoughts on that? REVIEWS MAKE ME THE HAPPIEST PERSON IN THE WORLD. AND I NEED HAPPINESS. Because I'm performing a very difficult song for the first time in public tomorrow at a sold-out fundraiser! EEK.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello my lovelies. So sorry that I disappeared for a bit! I've started college and it is so busy! BUT INSANELY EXCITING. I have my audition for ballet company on Sunday and then my Spring Awakening audition on Anyway I feel like we should continue on with the beautiful love story I am busy crafting, even though at the moment it's not exactly a love story. More like a story of awkwardness between a statue and a homeless girl.**

It took another two week for the situation in the house to once again settle into some type of routine. Eponine began to venture out, having grown completely restless of the inside of the apartment, but only when she was accompanying Enjolras to meetings. It became customary for them to walk, her hand on his arm, out of the way to the Café to avoid any possible area of the slums. Enjolras, without speaking of it, understood the danger that Eponine faced from her "previous employers" and simply insisted that he liked the longer route. Eponine suspected his intentions, but didn't question it. The first time they arrived hand-on-arm, Courfeyrac was the first to mention the odd picture it created.

"Mon ami, do not look now but there is a beautiful woman on your arm," he had said, approaching Enjolras cautiously as if he were a wild animal. Enjolras clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes but did not shrug Eponine's hand off his arm.

"Courfeyrac I am well aware of this. It would irresponsible to allow a young mademoiselle to travel through the streets unaccompanied," Enjolras said simply as Eponine detached herself from his arm on her own accord. With a well-known glare, Enjolras effectively ended the conversation for the evening, but his friends vowed to not let it drop.

"Eponine," a voice called timidly. Eponine turned to face Marius, who was rubbing his elbow and looking at her sheepishly. She smiled to herself, but tried to look upset with him.

"Yes Monsieur Marius?" she answered, placing her hands on her hips.

"Eponine I am truly sorry for asking you to do something without even thinking. It was foolish of me," he reached out his arms hesitantly to hug his friend. She grinned and nodded as he hugged her tightly.

"Oh you silly bourgeois boy. I couldn't stay mad at you," she laughed, but before she could continue she was tapped on the shoulder. Enjolras stood, with an unreadable expression on his face, looking at her expectantly.

"Eponine I'd like you to go over the speech for the rally with me," he said pointedly. She rolled her eyes, knowing that Enjolras had not yet forgiven Marius' foolish behaviors at the previous meeting.

"Oui Enjolras," she agreed anyway, not really understanding why she was so willing to follow him away from Marius. She followed though, unaware of the slight flutter of emotion in her stomach, and she listened and corrected him as he read through his speech with her. She was actually able to read some of it, as Enjolras had agreed to given her reading lessons, though she insisted on teaching him some street language in return. Her lessons usually did not flow as easily as the lessons Enjolras gave her.

"Oy Enjolras! That's not it at all," she groaned, clapping her hands on her face. Enjolras had been against the idea of learning street lingo from the beginning, but Eponine would not accept any kind of reading and writing lesson until he agreed to let her repay him.

"Why will I ever need to know this crude language?" Enjolras scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. A small part of him was enjoying the way her cheeks tinted, her nose scrunched, and her hair began to fall out of the ribbon she had tied it with all because of her frustration. He wasn't sure whether that enjoyment came from the easy friendship they had somehow developed and being able to frustrate her so easily, or whether it came from something deeper. He didn't dwell on it, not wanting to face any possibilities.

"When you go to the streets, you need to be able to at least understand what the people are saying. Or else you might as well hand over your wallet to anybody who's waiting in the shadows. Oh that's another thing we gotta go over. How to tell whose faking it and whose not," she launched once more into her lecture which Enjolras dutifully paid attention to. In two weeks' time Eponine deemed him ready to approach the slums, although she didn't truly ever believe he would be fully ready for whatever it was he was going to face. Enjolras took his Saturday to visit the slums of Saint Michel. Eponine stayed behind, though she knew she would be useful to him, she also knew if anyone from the slums recognized her (which they undoubtedly would) her father would find her AND Enjolras. So instead she spent the day cleaning, recleaning, and reorganizing the entire apartment as she hummed a nameless tune to herself. She tried not to think of the horrible things that could be happening to him and trusted his ability to defend himself.

When he returned home that evening he found her pacing in the kitchen nervously.

"Were you waiting for me?" he questioned as he entered, pouring himself a glass of wine. The growing soft spot in his heart was touched by his concern, but his logical side quickly suppressed that emotion as he took a swig from his glass. Eponine ducked her head and kicked the ground, hiding the blush that rose to her cheeks.

"I just wanted to hear you say I was right," she retorted sharply. In truth, she had been sick with worry that he would be harmed in the slums or robbed. "Well?" she prompted further. Enjolras glared at her before taking a deep breath.

"I suppose you were right. The people were angry, at least, just mostly angry at me. I've been spat on, cursed at, shoved, and had every manner of objects thrown at me today. I wouldn't be exaggerating in saying it was a harrowing day. I fear the people will not rise if the revolution continues as is," the worries and fears hit his gut all at once and he stumbled for a chair. Eponine helped him silently and gently, not used to seeing the usually stoic man so vulnerable. "What have I been doing Ponine?" he whispered, staring ahead with a glazed look. Eponine only blinked in shock. She had had no idea he even knew her uncommon nickname, which was only used by Marius and Gavroche. She was especially surprised that he felt comfortable enough to use it. It was then that a knot formed in the pit of her stomach as she realized just how uncomfortable the situation between them was beginning to become. "I have been leading my friends to their blind deaths. No good would come of our deaths if there was no one there to take our place," he murmured, rubbing his temples in deep thought. Afraid to touch him even in his most emotional state, she simply sat across from him. Enjolras' mind was somewhere else, picturing a river of blood in the street. He saw flashes of his friends dying at the hand of the National Guard, of the people shutting their windows and blocking their doors, and surprisingly of Eponine standing alone in the remains of the Café Musain. The last image shocked Enjolras out of his vulnerable state. His jaw tightened once more and his heart hardened as he shoved the image of Eponine out of his head.

"It is not too late Enjolras. You have not called the barricades to rise yet," she reminded softly. She had known the sad reality and so was not shocked by the people's reaction. He shook his head once more.

"No. I will not give up on France. Even if the people will not help themselves I will help them," he insisted, his passion igniting once more.

"That is so bourgeois of you, Enjolras! We do not NEED a hero or a martyr. We are not helpless! We choose not to fight against the King because we are smart enough to it won't do a speck of good. What good do those bourgeois books do if you haven't got a lick of street smarts?" she shot from her chair angrily, smacking the table with her tiny fists. Despite her usually frail appearance, Eponine was a Thenardier. And she knew how to be threatening. Enjolras kept his composure, but carefully avoided looking directly at her. The fire and anger in her eyes would be enough to completely break down the walls he had been carefully reinforcing for weeks. "Merde Apollo! You have seen the people you want to fight so hard for. You have heard their thoughts and yet you STILL do not understand them! You still feel as though you are above them. You would never admit it, but you won't step back and let us care for ourselves!"

"Well you're not doing a very good job of it are you? I didn't say anything, but I know that you are hiding from whoever those men are. If you are doing such a fantastic job then why are you running away from Paris?" the cold tone was more familiar to Eponine than the soft whimper she had heard only five minutes previous, but the words cut deeply into the friendship they had worked so hard to build.

Her cheeks burned in anger as she spat at him, fleeing the room. She locked herself into the spare room, swiftly changing into her old tattered rags. They felt a bit tight since a month of proper food had done her good. She gritted her teeth as she tied the rope tightly. She would not take an ounce of help from Enjolras and if she could she would give back every bite of his food she had put into herself. She would leave Paris immediately, dooming Enjolras and his foolish friends to their fate. She exited the room heading directly for the front door.

"Eponine wait!" his voice called. She halted by default but did not turn back to look at him. "You are right. I am too set in my ways to accept the truth, though I have seen it for my own eyes. France still needs to change, but I must find another way to bring it to her. I see that now and I will need your help now more than ever," she heard his voice soften.

He stared at her back, willing her to turn around so she could see the earnestness in his expression. He was not yet ready to admit it, but he knew she had become an irreplaceable part of his life. The small flame which had been lit the first night they met had slowly melted the marble in one small place. The place was small, but just big enough for Eponine to lodge herself in the opening and nestly into the soft flesh below. She had done so completely unintentionally, though. As she turned to face him, the look on his face was one she did not recognize on the features she had come to know so well. The usually hard blue eyes were soft and inviting, the chiseled jaw was left slack, and the ever present frown gone, leaving only a look of pure desperation.

"No Monsieur Enjolras. I have done all I can for you. I do not know the government like you students. What I know can't be found in your law books," she sighed; the effort of keeping her calm façade was exhausting.

"Eponine I am sorry. I am sorry for doubting you. I am sorry for making you feel belittled. I am sorry for insulting you," he told her. Though the emotions he felt made his stomach twist, he embraced them with courage the same way he approached everything in life. At any other time Eponine would have teased him mercilessly for showing weakness, but the sincerity in his apologies made her squirm with discomfort. The intensity in the room was static as the silence built.

"I cannot stay," she insisted finally. "I have already been in Paris too long. Thank you for the experience Enjolras, but you are right. I have been hiding for too long and now I have to get out. Goodbye Enjolras," she allowed herself a moment of sympathy, knowing the goodbye would be permanent one way or another. If she succeeded getting out of Paris, she would never be able to return. And if she failed, she would pay with her life. Enjolras wanted to grab her and scream 'no'. He wanted to protect her from whatever she was running from. He wanted to tell her to never leave, but Enjolras stayed silent as he watched her go. When the door shut behind her, the flame in his heart was extinguished, but the sliver of Eponine that had wedged itself in remained. And it kept the crack in the marble open for others to join Enjolras knew he was doomed. He could not repair the marble, but he refused to acknowledge the sadness and emptiness Eponine left behind in his home. To occupy his thoughts he set to work planning a new Revolution, one which would take the fighting inside the government.

As he buried his pain in books and plans, Eponine ran from hers. She did not love anyone but Marius, she reminded herself firmly as she darted in and out of the alleyways. It had been about an entire month since she had left Gorbeau House so she deemed the back streets safe enough for a quick escape at dusk. She had not realized that living under Enjolras' roof had had such an effect on her. She did not doubt that he was pleasing to the eye and chivalrous to the core, but Enjolras was not kind nor caring, the two qualities Eponine loved Marius the most for. Those last few moments Enjolras had shown her a different side and this stranger scared Eponine so much she'd simply run. She ran from the feelings she knew to be true. She ran from the strength of the bond that had spontaneously appeared between the Man of Marble and the Girl of the Street. She ran from Enjolras and she ran from love. Unfortunately for Eponine, she ran straight into the arms of a frantic nobleman who had been searching 2 weeks for his new toy. He caught her shoulders and looked down in surprise.

"Bonjour ma chere," he grinned a toothy smile that stunk at brandy. And for the first time in her life, Eponine did not fight the unwanted 'customer'. She surrendered to the man she knew had paid an unworldly amount to own her. Eponine allowed herself to be drapped by him through the streets. She knew it was what she deserved. She did not deserve Marius or Enjolras. She was a whore, a gamine at best. So she went willingly into her fate, hoping that in the next life she would earn better.

"Right now mon amor," the man said as they hailed a carriage. "We're heading to LaVigne Estate, my home and your new cage, my pet," he clucked his tongue, fingering her hair longingly. "I'm sure you'll find it much more pleasing than your father's sorry excuse for an abode."

"Oui, Monsieur," she muttered. Perhaps it would not be so bad to only be forced with one man in a rich home. She would be a trophy to him, which would at least mean she would be fed and clothed and not beaten. Her freedom was gone, though, and with it went the fire in her eyes and the love in her heart.

**A/N: AH PLEASE DON'T HATE ME. I shall barricade myself away so that you cannot shoot at me. Please bear in mind that there is NO ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP yet. We're not quite ready for that. Both are still in denial and probably will be for some time. Also exciting stuff! I'm going to see Les Miserables tomorrow night! Yay :) Please review, it makes me so happy in life.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes: Hello everyone! I'm terribly sorry for the long wait, but I'm afraid it's going to be like this for likely the remainder of the story (which is about halfway done at this point…) I have officially started college and last week was the week of auditions! I'm excited to let you guys know I'll be playing Anna in Stafford Arima's production of "Spring Awakening". All you have to do is Google search Stafford and realize what a big deal he is and it's so exciting to be working with him! Next week I have midterms and I haven't even started studying so I'm short on time since we rehearse so much, but enough about me. We have characters to read about, oui? Enjoy my friends! **

**Though I do have to give a special WARNING for this chapter. It contains some age-sensitive material. If you are under 13, please continue on with caution. I do not write lemons or smut really because I feel like true literature doesn't need that to evoke the same emotions, but still the ending scene is a bit mature. Alright, no more me talking!**

* * *

Cosette paced her room nervously. She muttered greetings and practiced curtsying as she fussed with her hair and clothes. Her father watched from the doorway, a smile on his lips, but the ghost of sadness in his eyes. He had let Cosette wander off for an hour while they were visiting the poor for a day, but he had not expected her to return with a young man chattering happily about being a law student at the University.

"My child, do not fret so. I am sure you will be well met by Monsieur Marius' friends no matter how your hair looks," he finally interrupted, though her blue eyes were filled with anguish.

"But Papa Marius' friends are like his family. They are his whole world! If they do not approve of me-

"Then Marius needs new friends," Valkean insearted, his voice firm as he wrapped in his daughter in a strong hug. "Dear Cosette you are lovely and kind and intelligent. You have such a good heart and I thank your mother every day for leaving you to my care. Any person who cannot see that does not know the Lord's good grace," he reminded her softly.

"Thank you Papa," she smiled, "for everything." A quick knock at the door cut their moment of peace short and put them both into action. Valjean made his way to the door as Cosette gathered her small bag, bonnet, and gloves.

"Good evening Monsieur Fauchelevent," Marius chimed from the front porch, holding in his excitement to see Cosette. He had told most of his friends that he would be bringing her to the meeting, though no one had seen Enjolras or Eponine the previous day to pass the message along. Marius was looking forward to introducing Cosette to his best friend. His vision appeared gracefully behind her father.

"Bonjour Marius," she smiled, squeaking past her father to stand beside her beloved.

"Dearest Cosette," the freckled boy replied as he placed a chaste kiss on her hand and offered her his arm. "Merci Monsieur. I will bring her back no later than ten o clock," he told her father before turning to lead her to the Café Musain. Valjean watched as the two lovebirds—for that is what they were—retreat into the sunset. Cosette was the light of his dark life, but she was never his to keep in the first place and he could not fight the love that was so obvious in their eyes. Through the love for another person, one could find God and that was all he wanted for Cosette.

As the pair traveled, Enjolras shuffled through his latest speech. Though his physical appearance was as put together as usual, his mind was completely scattered. He had not slept the previous night, half expecting Eponine to come back, sputtering some kind of ashamed excuse about it being cold and dark, but she had not returned. The ache he felt had not subsided but he pressed it down with a vengeance. Eponine had made her choice and he would respect it without comment. He found it impossible to stop thinking about her altogether though. Images of her smug smile, her cheeky grin, the way her nose crinkled when she was frustrated, the way she hummed off-key while she cleaned, and the way she gazed lovingly at book haunted his every thought. For once, Enjolras regretted his impeccable attention to detail. He observed everything and he could not forget Eponine's image to the exact detail. He groaned quietly to himself as he shuffled through his papers without paying attention.

"Enjolras, are you alright?" Grantaire approached him in an unusually sober manner.

"Yes of course," Enjolras replied tensely, not in the mood to deal with his old friend.

"Why must you lie, Apollo?" Grantaire rolled his eyes. "Something is obviously bothering you and I would bet it has something to do with absence of a certain mademoiselle," Enjolras glared at the drunkard as his comment rang too true.

"That's ridiculous. I don't have time to keep track of all Les Amis, Eponine included. I am a bit off, at most, because I have planned some drastic changes," he responded firmly.

"You are not thinking about the Republic, mon ami."

"And why would you claim that?"

"Because, oh fearless leader," Grantaire's tone oozed sarcasm, "you have shuffled your papers so much that the last page is first, the middle is at the end, and the beginning is somewhere in the middle." Enjolras glanced down at his speech in shock for a moment before hastily reassembling the pages. "What's this? The Great Enjolras has been corrected!"

"Sod off, Grantaire," Courfeyrac chimed in. "Didn't you know Enjolras was sick?"

"Sick? Enjolras, is that so? Is it so contagious? Come to think of it I did cough when I came in the door. Good lord it could be a strain of the Plague or tuberculosis!" Joly began to feel his own forehead and forcibly cough.

"Enough, Joly. Enjolras is not sick and neither are you," Combeferre interrupted with a frown.

"Oh, but mon ami," Courfeyrac slung an arm over Combeferre's shoulder. "Didn't you know? He's been bitten!"

"Oh really? That's some right bad luck! I'm glad it wasn't me…ouch!" Bossuet commented as he hit his hand on the edge of the table.

"Bossuet sit down before you kill yourself," Bahorel demanded sharply. "Now what's this about Enjolras being bitten?"

"Yes Enjolras has been bitten!" Courfeyrac pranced about, patting Jehan on the head as he pulled Feuilly's fan from his hands.

"Hey! I was almost finished with that!"

"Enjolras has been bitten by the terribly bug…of amor!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, covering his lips and nose with the fan as he fluttered his eyelashes like a sultry woman.

"Courfeyrac stop it," Combeferre gave him a pointed look that was easily ignored.

"Oh Enjolras is that true? Tell me is she quite beautiful?" Jehan looked toward the man in the red coat, who had previously been not paying any attention to their ridiculous antics as the meeting hadn't quite started yet.

"I didn't know you had a heart to love with, Apollo," Grantaire commented snidely.

"Enough!" Enjolras finally shouted, though his composure was kept calm. "There is absolutely nothing more between Eponine and myself than there is between myself and any of you! Bring your focus, gentlemen, we have work to do," he announced as Marius strolled in, a girl on his arm. With a large groan, he marched over to them as the blonde beauty was immediately pulled into the arms of Courfeyrac, who began dancing her around the room. Her laugh filled the air and Enjolras winced; it was not as hearty as Eponine's.

"Marius!" Enjolras snapped, pulling him aside sharply. "What are you thinking, bringing a woman you barely know to a secret meeting?"

"Be calm, Enjolras. She is not a danger. Her father has heard of Les Amis d'ABC and seems supportive of the cause. She is not loyal to the crown, nor the current government system. They are interested in helping the less fortunate," Marius placed a hand on Enjolras' shoulder, but it was thrown off.

"You cannot possibly know any of that to be true! For all you know her father could be a member of the Royal Court simply using his daughter to get inside information. What we are doing is considered treason by the King, Marius. Would you risk the safety and lives of all of your friends for a woman? Do you know how hard Courfeyrac worked to prove you would be loyal? I should have trusted my instinct. Damn Bonapartist," he muttered, feeling the migraine growing in his head.

"I may not agree with every political opinion of yours, but I am loyal and supportive of the cause. I have risked everything for the Revolution and yet you act as if I have done nothing!" Marius argued back.

"You did not sacrifice anything! You only live without the luxury you were unjustly given at birth. While I have always admired you for that, you have not done anything for the cause ever since you laid eyes on that girl. She is not beneficial to our cause if everyone is distracted by her. You must choose Marius. The time for growing up is now," Enjolras' voice was hard, and though it was calm there was a storm brewing behind his eyes.

"That's completely unreasonable Enjolras! What about Joly and Bousseat with Musichetta? Or all the other men who have a different mistress every night? Why do you not make them choose?" Marius demanded, his rising voice attracting attention.

"Marius maybe we should go…" Cosette started uneasily, but Enjolras calmly cut her off.

"I do not care about the insignificant affairs of the heart as long as they do not interfere with the focus of a meeting," the golden haired leader suppressed his emotions with ease to regain composure. "Take the mademoiselle home, Pontmercy." Marius, however, did not see the reason.

"So is that why Eponine cannot come any longer? Because women have no place here?" he scoffed.

"Eponine is a more valuable member of this society than most other students. Women are welcome, so long as they have proven themselves loyal and helpful! Eponine is not here because she has chosen to leave Paris for personal reason," Enjolras replied, calmly keeping his storming emotions at bay.

"WHAT?!" Marius shouted, successfully commanding everyone's attention. Enjolras let out a long breath before looking at his friends.

"Eponine has left Paris on her own accord. She did not tell me where she was headed, nor did she tell the specifics as to why she was leaving. It is most likely a permanent relocation," he announced.

"But Enjolras didn't you tell her to stay with us?" Feuilly asked, the look on his face like that of a saddened puppy dog.

"That was not my place, nor is it any of yours," Enjolras denied firmly.

"Gavroche will be so heartbroken," Courfeyrac, the ever laughing boy, sighed with grief.

"She is the spirit of our revolution, how can she just leave?" Jehan exclaimed and everyone began to murmur in agreement.

"My friends calm yourselves. We must respect her choices as we would each other's. Before she left we discussed a new approach, though, which we will pursue in her honor…" he launched into his speech about trying to bring change to the country by using the flawed government to their advantage, instead of trying to overthrow it. His friends listened quietly, wondering how such a drastic changed had come to their usually battle-prepared leader. But Cosette sat at Marius' side, having been relieved to just slip under the radar as talk of Eponine sent the room into a flurry. She listened contentedly to Enjolras' speech. Though she knew little of the government, she agreed that the poor could not continue on as they did. She saw them every day and did what she could to better their lives. The name "Eponine" tickled something in the back of her mind, though she could not say why. Whoever she was, Cosette thanked her profusely for preventing a battle which easily could've taken Marius' life.

The same thought comforted Eponine in her new life. When her new clothes squeezed her mercilessly, when her throat burned from the constant singing, when her master's "love" caused her searing pain, or when she wept because she had lost all of her dignity, she thought of Les Amis living to see another day. She thought of Gavroche, riding on the shoulders of Courfeyrac or Grantaire. She thought of Marius, smiling and hugging her lovingly. And she did not stop herself when she thought about Enjolras in those last few moments; the pure, raw emotion that had been so evident in her eyes did not scare her anymore. She knew that on some level he cared for her, and that made all the pain bearable.

In her new life, she was a trophy, a prize. During the day she was paraded around town and shown off to friends of Monsieur LaVigne in extravagant finery. The moment they returned to the privacy of the manor and his personal chambers, she was commanded to give a performance for him which almost always ended with her clothes being violently ripped off. Monsieur LaVigne was a harsh lover. He was not gentle, nor kind. He did not go slowly, nor did he tire quickly. Eponine was honestly surprised at his stamina. She had been forced to lay with several men of all ages, though none had hurt her as much as he did. She knew that most of the pain came from her…unwillingness. Monsieur LaVigne also liked to be rough in other ways. Eponine had lost count of the bruises she acquired since her arrival, which his maids dutifully covered with powder so he would not be suspected of abuse (not that anyone would prosecute him, since he was nobility). Although she was his treasure, he did not treat her with caution and care as a jewel ought to be treated. He often "forgot" to feed her, though she knew he liked her to stay weaker than him. When her performance did not satisfy him, she was tossed out the doorway. The first time it occurred, she tried to leave, but was punished dearly. She learned to suck it up and sleep on the doorstep. Luckily for her, that did not happen more than once a week.

Eponine was still a Thenardier, though, and much accustomed to not getting food and sleeping outside and living with unbearable pain. She was strong and resilient. For the first two months it was absolutely nothing she couldn't handle. The hardest part of her new life was the lack of everything. She no longer felt happiness or joy at even the smallest pleasures. She did not feel…at all. A thought tickled the back of her mind that brought about the first emotion in months: worry. Her mother had not been to the manor to give her the dreadful elixir at the beginning of the month. She did not know for sure what that meant. Perhaps she was unknowingly being administered a kind of prevention? Perhaps her master was unable to father children?

"Madame, what does it mean to not have your…cycle?" Eponine finally asked the head maid after two and a half months of wondering what was going on. The old, stern woman froze before glaring at the street rat before her.

"It means you either keep your mouth shut and get rid of it you filthy whore, or you're in a whole heap of trouble!" she told her roughly. Dread filled Eponine's stomach instantly.

"It?"

* * *

**Author's Note: AH don't shoot, okay? There won't be another update for AT LEAST a week, but I promise I'm writing as fast as I can. I promise it won't be hanging there for too long!**


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